41
It rained half the night, and twice Avisha woke, sure she heard Mai crying in the adjacent chamber and, in response, Priya's soothing whisper. Every slightest noise carried within the captain's house: the raised plank floor, the stout wood pillars, and the strong roof were of highest quality, but until more of the settlement in the Barrens was serviceable, Mai had insisted they make do with canvas walls.
The children slept soundly, crowded close. After the rains died, the air grew close and stifling, so Avisha tied up the entrance to let in air. Standing in a light cotton shift, she sighed in a blissfully cooling breeze. A pair of figures paced the lower porch that wrapped the structure. A face looked up at her.
'Early yet, Avisha,' said Chief Tuvi in a voice hoarsened, perhaps, by the early hour.
She hurriedly shrank back into the shadows of the sleeping chamber as the two men — she hadn't recognized the other one — chuckled, their footfalls soft on the porch as they continued their circuit. Did the man never sleep? He was the captain's most trusted officer, which explained why he had been sent to the Barrens with the captain's beloved wife.
Who had woken again.
'I just can't sleep,' Mai was saying in a low voice. 'My back hurts. Every time I close my eyes I think of Shai.'
Avisha dressed as quietly as possible so as not to wake the other women and children. The house had been built on three levels, to accommodate both their living situation and the vagaries of the ground. A walkway wrapped the greater structure, with the main house one step up, and the inner house another two steps farther up, its raised floor constructed around a courtyard with a cistern, an area for a small garden, and foundations dug out where a tower would be built. The kitchen and work area lay on the western edge of the house, and she slipped on sandals and crossed the walkway down into the kitchen yard. A fire burned on the outdoor hearth: Sheyshi was already up, brewing tea.
Avisha fetched a tray and a pair of cups from the pantry. Til take that in.'
'I will do it,' said Sheyshi. 'You will go marry and leave. I will stay here.'
Stupid girl!
Aui! She could take in a basin of washing water. She filled a pot from the cistern and heated it on the hearth. By the time she had a pitcher, basin, and cloths ready, Sheyshi was gone and the kitchen women were bustling. Lads were sent to haul water from the spring; rice was washed and readied for cooking. Fish again! But there were fresh spices, shipped in three days ago, to flavor the stew. In town, hammering started up, men getting to work while it was still cool. Although the heavy tray made her arms ache, she paused on the walkway where the view opened over the east. The sun was rising, a blush spread along the watery horizon.
'Need help with that?'
She turned to face Jagi.
'I can carry that in for you.'
'My thanks.' She handed him the tray, which he handled smoothly, the weight nothing to him.
'We're riding formation today,' he said as she held aside the entry curtain to allow him into the formal room where Mai, looking pale, sat on pillows while Sheyshi offered her tea. 'I told Jerad he could help me saddle up and get my armor on. If you'll allow it.'
'That's very kind of you. Of course he can go. You're like a brother to him, truly.'
He flicked a considering glance at her as he set the tray on the table, barely stirring the water. Then he retreated. Face flushed, Avisha waited by the table, wondering if anyone in the room would remark on the comment, on Jagi's kindness, on anything, indeed, but Mai sipped listlessly. She hadn't even noticed Avisha come in. Priya swept out from the sleeping chamber.
'Avisha has brought wash water, Mistress,' Priya said, a bit tartly.
Mai glanced up. 'Thank you, Vish.'
'Are you well, Mai?' Avisha asked.
'Bring a wet cloth!' snapped Sheyshi. 'Why be so slow?'
'No use me sitting here feeling sorry for myself.' Mai got up awkwardly. The fine silk robes she had brought with her from the south no longer fit her, and she had taken to wearing a taloos, which could be wrapped to accommodate any stage of pregnancy. Dark circles hollowed her fine eyes, and after she had finished wiping her face and hands, she stood with the wet cloth dangling unregarded from a hand and stared out the opened curtain toward the sea.
A faint jangle sounded. Puzzled, Mai straightened. Footsteps sounded on the walkway, and a moment later — quite amazingly — an elderly man dressed in the blue traveling cloak and gaudy colors of an envoy of Ilu trotted up into the chamber.
'Here you are, verea,' he said in an amiable voice, as if he were accustomed to entering her chambers every morning, like a favorite uncle. 'I heard you were feeling poorly. Not that I have much in the way of healing knowledge or any cunning herbcraft — you'd need a mendicant for that — but I wanted to come tell you that I've consulted with various temples and your architect and we've come up with a proper siting for seven altars. Simple structures could be erected within the week. Once the altars are in place, there's no further impediment if you wish to see marriages go forward.'
Chief Tuvi stamped in, sword drawn. 'Where did you come from?'
The envoy's smile was sweet and harmless. 'I walked in, ver. Didn't you give me permission yourself?'
This statement caused the chief to look confused.
Mai stepped forward. 'It's all right, Chief, let him stay. I asked him to come see me when he had news about establishing local temples.'
The chief glanced at Avisha, and she flushed. He was a good-looking man in his own way, if very old, probably as old as her father. But he was formidable and important, and everyone listened to him.
'Will you share tea, Your Holiness?' Mai asked.
'With thanks at your gracious offer.' The man settled easily on a pillow. He indicated the disordered coverlet. 'Not sleeping well? A common complaint later in pregnancy, so I am told. Hard to get comfortable, I should think.'
She sighed as she looked at him, as if ready to speak.
'Missing your husband?'
She blushed and looked away. 'He is very busy.'
'Yes, indeed.' The envoy frowned. 'Very busy.'
'Is something wrong, Your Holiness?'
'Neh, nothing. It's true enough, with the troubles in Haldia, that Olo'osson must consider how to protect itself.'
'I don't like the Barrens,' said Mai. 'But I must not complain.'
'Why not?' The envoy glanced at Avisha, and she looked away, wondering why his benign gaze seemed so discomfiting.
'Anji would be disappointed in me.'
'Would he?'
Really! thought Avisha. That holy man ought to know better than to grind his finger into an open sore!
'There is plenty for me to do,' said Mai. 'Anyway, if I mope, then the baby will have a sullen personality.'
'Is that so?'
'That's what Grandmother always said to her sons' wives. Although how it would explain Uncle Girish's cruel ways, or Uncle Shai's silence — I don't suppose Grandmother thought of that when she was criticizing the others, did she?' Cheered by this thought,
Mai accepted the teapot from Priya and with dainty gestures poured four cups.
'Uncle Girish, eh?'
'Let's not talk about him. He's dead now, anyway.' She offered him the first cup, which he took. She then offered Chief Tuvi a cup, and she and Priya picked up the third and fourth. With a nod from Mai, they all drank. Avisha smelled the sharp tang, and her mouth watered.
'More?' Mai asked.
'With thanks.' The envoy returned the cup to her hand. She smiled at him as she received it. 'You mentioned
